Tag: music

“That Tuesday Funk” Will Never Die!

That Tuesday Funk takes place every last Tuesday of the month at The Plug on 7th Avenue in Melville, Johannesburg. Originally, it was held at Hell’s Kitchen on the same street until that place shut down. Established by the boys of The Brother Moves On and co, the iconic jam session has been known to host some of the best musicians in the country and the vibe is always good. If you haven’t experienced it yet—you’re a tourist.

That Tuesday Funk October 2023 Edition | Images courtesy of @hymn_self (via Instagram)

But last night was a little different. On one hand, it showed just how far the project had come since its inception. It has not only survived the shift from Hell’s Kitchen to The Plug, but it is thriving. It has attracted a whole new audience! As I walked in, I noticed how much younger the attendees were. This was a beautiful, put-together bunch; dressed to the nines; and a good mix between the genders. Also, it was absolutely packed, like you didn’t even have space to stand, even outside.

Surprisingly, the crowd also seemed much more into music. There was less of that reserved head-bopping of hoity-toity jazz cats. These folks were out to play and they didn’t care who was watching. Back in the day, I used to be one of the first to rush in and try to secure my spot close to the stage so that I could soak up every ounce of music. I would even forego the vibe outside to be upfront. This time that wasn’t the case. There were quite a lot of people already seated trying to secure their seats long before any music started playing.

And when the music did start playing, it was fun to see a lot of young musicians get on the stage. THAT Tuesday Funk is a jam session after all, so the point is to see people bust their chops. At the same time, one couldn’t help but spot the difference. Firstly, it seemed less curated. The stage was as packed as the audience. There were so many chefs in the kitchen. You barely got to see anyone from The Brother Moves On or, the original group of, I would say, older musicians that have made the event so phenomenal.

When I say it was packed, I mean it was PACKED! | Image captured by Thembeka Heidi Sincuba

While the big boys did not necessarily come out to play, the young cats were hungry for that spotlight. Everybody wanted a solo. You could see the tension between musicians fighting to get their place on the stage, partly because it was such a good, plump audience. Again, knowing the right moment for a solo, and where to take it, is something only a seasoned musician would respect.

The whole thing was an incredible reflection on the original musicians who founded That Tuesday Funk. Not only was their absence sorely felt, but it also showed their generosity in allowing the new crop of musicians to take up so much space. But that same kindness and generosity also robbed the audience of the really good music that they had come to associate with That Tuesday Funk.

So, it’s a double-edged sword where, yes, it is time for young musicians to get their training wheels off; get the miles in and get to play in front of live audiences. And it’s just magical to see. But it’s also quite clear that they’re just not as good. Not yet. And it’s bittersweet to see the OGs perhaps getting older and more humble. Realising that they have to compete with musicians who are so green. Perhaps they’d rather not. Rightly so.

Gontse Makhene; That Tuesday Funk October 2023 Edition | Images courtesy of @hymn_self (via Instagram)

That being said, there were glimmers. Like last night, when Gontse Makhene squeezed his way to the front and took a solo on his talking drum. The man is a magician. The moment was sublime. It was spiritual. Like flying, or rather levitating into some unknown realm. But it was fleeting and he was soon overtaken by another musician trying to get his solo in and accidentally killing a bloody beautiful beat.

The musicians who put this event together with the sweat off their backs did it because they love music and it gave them an opportunity to play together and get better. To be fair, they have succeeded and they’ve all done so well for themselves, that they probably don’t need the jam session any longer, but clearly, the young musicians coming up do and no one can deny that this thriving musical community will live on in the evolving narrative of this golden city. That Tuesday Funk will simply never ever die!

29 November 2023
Nongqawuse Through the Sonic Lens of uKhoiKhoi

uKhoiKhoi is a live-looping duo that blends opera, indigenous chants, and praise poetry. Their sound, which they describe as “indigenous electro” is a fusion of traditional and contemporary instruments. uKhoiKhoi’s name pays homage to the KhoiSan tribe that once thrived in Southern Africa, but it is the vibrant city of Johannesburg that inspires the duo’s sound.

This band consists of musician and composer Yogin Sullaphen and vocalist and performing artist Anelisa Stuurman, also known as Annalyzer. Since 2019 their partnership has resulted in two EPs and a series of performances across South Africa and Europe. Not to mention that uKhoiKhoi performed at the BubblegumClub-produced Spotify X Thebe Magugu event at the Nirox Foundation earlier this year.

Image courtesy of CityLife Arts

Anelisa Stuurman came up in the rural setting of the Eastern Cape, South Africa. Raised in a family steeped in musical traditions within the village of Sterkspruit, Anelisa’s childhood introduced her to choral, classical, and indigenous music. Her passion for the arts led her to Durban, where she honed her skills on the stage, hosting events, and producing music under her pseudonym, Annalyzer.

Yogin Sullaphen is a multi-instrumentalist musician and composer, holding a degree in Jazz Composition from the University of Witwatersrand. His musical dexterity encompasses guitar, bass, keyboard, drums, flute, and an array of traditional African instruments. As a music producer with such a palette of instruments at his fingertips, Yogin found his true calling in live looping when he joined forces with Anelisa, resulting in the popular sound that defines uKhoiKhoi.

Nongqawuse (right) with fellow prophetess, Nonkosi, Image courtesy of South African History Online

Appearing on their EPK of the same name, uKhoiKhoi’s latest track is named after Nongqawuse. Born around 1841 in Gxarha, Cape Colony (modern-day Centane, South Africa), the controversial Xhosa prophet Nongqawuse is known for her role in the significant historical event of the Xhosa cattle-killing movement and the ensuing famine of 1856–1857 in the Eastern Cape.

Largely known through colonial and oral traditions, Nongqawuse’s early life remains a mystery. What we do know is that she was thought to be an orphan and was raised near the border of the British Kaffraria, formerly a British colony or subordinate administrative region in what is now known as Qonce and East London. She is said to have been brought up by her uncle Mhlakaza, who had been heavily influenced by Christianity during his time in the Cape Colony. Mhlakaza was known to interpret and organise Nongqawuse’s prophecies.

In April 1856, Nongqawuse, then 15 years old, claimed to have met the spirits of her ancestors near the Gxarha River. The spirits promised that the dead would return, and the European settlers would be swept into the sea, restoring prosperity to the Xhosa people if the Xhosa people destroyed their crops and cattle, their source of wealth and sustenance, in exchange for divine salvation.

Initially, when she relayed her message, not all Xhosa people believed in her prophecies. While a minority refused to obey her instructions, leading to the failure of her predictions over fifteen months, over time, many became inclined to believe her as her visions emerged during a period of prolonged Xhosa resistance against British colonialism. In addition, many Xhosa people had been afflicted by “lung sickness”, likely introduced by European cattle. She gained a large following and people began following her instructions.

Nongqawuse predicted that the prophecies would come true by February 18, 1857, and that the sun would turn red as a sign. Once her predictions proved to be inaccurate, her following dwindled and the prophetess was handed over to colonial authorities. Her later life remains shrouded in uncertainty and she passed away in 1898.

Widespread famine was the unfortunate consequence of her prophecies and subsequently, the population in the British Kaffraria decreased significantly. Despite this, Nongqawuse is often heralded as a hero by many. Today, the location where she claimed to have encountered the spirits is known as Intlambo kaNongqawuse, which translates to “Valley of Nongqawuse” in isiXhosa.

Image courtesy of Bandcamp

So it comes as no surprise that the band uKhoiKhoi chose to name their latest song after this confounding figure. Nongqawuse blends traditional African musical elements with afrobeat, resulting in a distinctively uKhoiKhoi sound. Nongqawuse is a ballad with earnest lyrics that pose the age-old question: “What became of the Xhosa people’s land and wealth?” Through this track, uKhoiKhoi offers their own account of the legend that is Nongqawuse.

Watch the Nongqawuse video here.

9 November 2023
“The Greatest of A-Town”: Khenji Releases His Debut Album “Notes”

Lately, I’ve been getting so tired of my own music. My friends and I came to the conclusion that TikTok, and all its slowed and reverb versions of mainstream (often good) songs that are used in viral trends, is the reason that new music doesn’t hit the same anymore. So, naturally, I’m always interested when I come across an underground artist that mimics mainstream music genres, but in some way, adds their own ‘character’ or ‘interpretation’ to the generic to create something that will stand out more- and it’s even better when it’s a South African artist!

In my pursuit of discovering new music, I came across a Twitter account owned by Thato Mashigo (Khenji) a Musician, Writer and Producer from Alexandra, Gauteng. He recently released his debut album “Notes”, a 12-track celebration, which he describes in an article as “a brief record of points or ideas written down as an aid to memory.”

More times than others, I think we fail to call out musicians for creating albums that sometimes fall short of manifesting clear purpose or intent. I find it so enlightening listening to an album that sounds like a clear lived experience of someone- and I think this is where this album wins and makes it a project worth listening to.

Along with the announcement of the album on X, Mashigo unironically shared a couple of key takeaways from the album; notes of what the album is made of, what it represents and how it should be received by listeners.

“Notes is more than a story, it’s my perspective of Life”- Khenji/@SolarKhenji

Along with the Khenji, the album was produced by Lucas Mathule, an Alexandra-based producer.

As much as I do appreciate a solo album, featured artists on a tracklist always take an already good project to the next level, and that’s what happened here. I can hear from songs such as Plenty and Too Long that this album evokes so many feelings about community and the essence of one’s upbringing. In terms of its production value and artistic appeal, the album is an impressive way of characterising Alexandra’s music scene.

There’s all those present elements for the album to qualify as an alternative R&B album, but there’s also so many elements that make it a perfect blend of R&B, Hip-Hop and Jazz- Oh and those beats of drums just enhance the overall vibrancy that the music in this album reflects.

While I will admit that prior to this, I had never listened to local musicians’ albums from front to back (without skips), this was really fun to listen to. The album stands as a type of homage to the rawness of youth, but within that rawness, Khenji’s use of lyrics implies faith in one’s present state and hopes for one’s future.

You know what I like about @SolarKhenji music? You can hear the fun in his music. I can tell broer was having the time of his life in the studio.

A tweet by @master_rxph

Quite excited to see how far this emerging South African artist goes!

8 November 2023
How To Mend a Broken Heart When It Literally Feels Impossible
It seemed like I was in a bad Hollywood romcom the other day, as rain poured from the sky and the guy I thought was the love of my life, sat across from me in my car and told me we were never actually going out. Two and a half months later, countless dates, and late-night drives only to learn that we had been what? Buddies? I was obviously devastated, and as much as I enjoyed sitting in my pyjamas, eating cake and watching reruns of Law & Order: SVU, I knew I needed to be proactive in my healing or face spiralling into a dark hole and always wondering where I had gone wrong.

There is nothing that films sell short like heartbreak, I mean, Elle Woods ( Legally Blonde, 2001) got her heart broken and applied to Harvard Law, yeah right. More realistically, heartbreak feels like an endless sea of grief that seems to go on forever. Even the smallest of things, like seeing his name on your car Bluetooth, can be a reminder of what you lost. There is no magical, cure-all way to fix a broken heart, however, these tips, courtesy of an Instagram poll can make the heartbreak feel a little less like the world is ending.
1. Grieve the Relationship
To use Elsa’s words, “Feel, don’t conceal.” Allow yourself to sit in your feelings, it’s okay to feel sad, angry, and even devastated. Travel through the stages of grief, from denial to anger, until you settle at home base in acceptance. It may take years or days, and running away from your feelings will only prolong the healing process. Allow yourself to feel sad about the love you lost, and grieve the former relationship.
1. Exercise!
Recovering from a breakup is a lot of work, and getting yourself out of bed and active is even more work. Although it may seem to all be in your head(or heart), a breakup can take a physical toll on our bodies too. Research has found that people who have recently gone through a breakup experience similar brain activity when shown pictures of their ex as they do when they are in physical pain. So those chest pains we are suffering through are not a figment of our imaginations. The best way to counteract the physical discomfort you may be feeling is to exercise. A morning stroll, lifting weights, or cardio, allows your brain to release endorphins and the other yummy hormones that reduce anxiety or depression. And what’s better than a revenge body on the gram?
1. Stay Away From Social Media
Trust me, your algorithm knows what is happening in your life- it always knows. When was the last time you didn’t tune into TikTok? Use this time to take a bit of a social media sabbatical, otherwise, your algorithm will be feeding you “Here’s how to know if he really loves you” videos or worst yet “How to know if a woman is in her feminine energy”, you’ll find yourself spiralling down the social media rabbit hole and unlike Alice, you won’t find a wonderland. Save yourself the pain and frustration, and don’t stalk their new partner- it’s never going to bring you the closure you desire.
1. Put on Some Tunes
Lucky for you and me, heartbreak is a universal pandemic that spans BC (Before Christ), and so there is a song about every sort of heartbreak imaginable. If you don’t know where to start, my girl Adele has you covered. Taylor Swift just released 1989 ( Taylor’s Version) which has a few heartbreak tear jerkers. If you’re keeping it local, what is better than the Amapiano beat of Abalele to still your broken heart? Music will always be there for us, allow it to soothe your wounds and remind you time and time again that you are not alone.

P.S. Stay away from the songs that remind you of them- we are moving onward not backwards.
1. Don’t Delete the Pictures – Yet
In all your anger and hurt you might block, delete, and try your best to forget, but don’t be so hasty. I tried it, only to find myself resaving the pictures. Healing is a journey, you don’t need to rush through anything. Whether it was a talking stage, a situationship, or even a long-term relationship, you allowed some form of love in and it did not turn out how you wanted. You don’t have to rip off the bandaid, slow and steady wins the race, and when you are ready, wipe the reminders of them from your life.
1. Lean On Your Community
My friend told me, “If you need to shout- shout at me, if you need to cry, cry to me.” And that’s what we all need through this process, a shoulder to lean on. As easy as it is to put yourself in isolation, talking about it helps, a hug goes a long way, and sharing a tub of ice cream with your mate sometimes feels better than eating it alone.
1. Dive Into Your Hobbies
Haven’t picked up your musical instrument since high school? Or baked bread since the pandemic ended? The less time you spend sitting and occupying your mind about the past relationship, the less it will get to you. Occupy your time with distractions, the more the merrier.

8. Pray It Away

This has been the most helpful tip for me, who better to heal my broken heart than the Creator of the universe? Even if you’re not religious, try talking to God about it.

9. Rebrand

As cliche as Hollywood movies have made it seem, “reinventing” yourself after a breakup can be empowering. According to psychology professor Renee Engeln, “Making a radical change in your appearance can be a way of sending the message that you’re also making a radical change to your life- or that you’d like to.” Pushing yourself to do something radical like adopting a cat (Lupita Nyong’o you did that girl!)facing your fear of heights by going bungee jumping, or moving to another country allows you the freedom to do something without needing anyone’s opinion about it first. A drastic life change is an obvious and somewhat easy way to tell the world that you are ready to start over and reclaim your newly found freedom.

In the difficult moments, remind yourself that you will recover from this. Healing is not linear, and it is absolutely okay to do everything on this list and still feel devastated. For me, missing him comes and goes in waves, but it’s in those breathless painful moments that I remind myself that human resilience is something to be marveled at and that my heart will be whole once more. Most importantly, whatever you do, do not give up on yourself. We must still go on to believe that fairytales exist, and that love will come to stay next time around.
6 November 2023
WYAA // Providing Platforms for the Emergence of Young Artists

Cantilevered concrete extends into a crisply lit tower foregrounding the bright cerulean winter sky. Tire treads mark the intersection of an arterial road, the pulse connecting the suburbs of Johannesburg to the heart of the city. Adjacent, a narrow side street reverberates the sounds of lorries and delivery vans. The bustling sidewalk is grounded by rectangular forms – interjected by an iron grate ashtray. Indigenous foliage peppers a raised platform of slate stones. This is the corner occupied by The Point of Order.

The Point of Order operates as a mixed-use project space managed under the exhibitions programme of the Division of Visual Arts at the Wits School of Arts. This year nine students were selected to participate in the Wits Young Artist Award – a prestigious event that aims to provide an exhibition platform for emerging artists. Notions of inherited legacy, gender, sexuality and mapping space were explored throughout the show.

Allyssa Herman is interested in the way knowledge is produced around the kitchen table and domestic space. A kitsch ceramic canine inherited from her grandmother is central to the work A Shrine for my Bitch. “A shrine for my bitch, it’s just that. A shrine for my bitch. My bitch is an embodiment of me, an embodiment of the woman who have passed, who’s ideals live in me…This bitch has been sitting in my grandmother’s home watching me all my life, she deserves a shrine, she deserves to be praised. My bitch is both dead and alive. She is that bitch. We are that bitch. Bow down bitches!” The shrine, arranged with an abundance of fake flowers, family portraits, candles and doilies pay homage to Allyssa’s matriarchal lineage – the veil between life and death.

Artworks by Lebogang Mabusela

“I hate doilies. There is something very suspicious about the cleaning, masking, covering, and the needing to impress that comes with being a woman. The passing down of these doilies happens in those moments when mama’ tells me gore ngwanyana o kama moriri; ngwanyana ga a tlhabe mashata; ngwanyana o dula so, ga a tlaralle” says runner-up Lebogang Mabusela. Lebogang’s response to these crocheted signifiers of femininity and ‘black womanhood’ is to reimagine them through a series of monotype prints. “Doilies are used to conceal flawed and plain surfaces in a more decorative way. They are about dignity, integrity and keeping a seductive, elegant and glamorous home even when things are just falling apart slightly, because Abantu bazothini?” Her work tenderly addresses the transference of societal projections on paper.

Cheriese Dilrajh also engages the domestic sphere in her work. “A space can feel foreign to you even if it is your home. It can make you question your existence.” Her installation of suspended sarees adorned with paper plants and a video projection of “alien plants of the Internet” challenges tradition and the notion of inherited culture. “People can be thought of as plants. There are indigenous and alien, each determined which is which by the space it is allowed to flourish and survive in. Plants are interesting to me as they sometimes appear to embody human characteristics. My grandmother would also often transfer plants from her house to our garden.” Her interests extend into decolonising the self – “postcolonial is not only a theory, it is lived and embodied. It is everywhere, and identity becomes distorted and confusing, informing our growth.”

Installation piece by Cheriese Dilrajh

Dominique Watson‘s haunting bed installation is a response to a project created by the SADF during apartheid at the time of the Border Wars. Conscripts classified as homosexual or ‘deviant’ were sent to Ward 22 of the Military Hospital in Voortrekkerhoogte. In this ward they were subject to the ‘conversion’ procedures of electroshock therapy and chemical castration. Dominique discovered documentation of these atrocities in GALA‘s archive – including accounts from patients as well as their families. She describes this, “history as a haunting” whereby the medical gaze approached the queer body as one riddled with disease. The red bedsheet bound around the military-style cot has been stained with institutional ink – signifying the oppressive nature of the establishment.

For his provocative work, Oratile Konopi collaborated with Hip-hop artist Gyre. Oratile’s piece is a visual response to the musician’s single entitled Eat My Ass. “We went about creating an artwork with its own narrative. The narrative of a dinner date in which you would get to know someone, going through two courses but the desert not being eaten rather alluding to the idea that something else is being ‘eaten’.” Oratile explores notions of masculinities central to the identity of black men in his artistic practice – often employing music as a device to create a point of accessibility. The installation offers an opportunity for the audience to engage with the works in a tangible form – adding to what would otherwise be limited to digital interface. Oratile and Gyre use this platform to, “speak on the issues related to gender and sexualities present in the music sonically and extending it visually. We chose the LP format because it speaks to a different moment in time. Complicating the idea that multiple sexualities are something only present in the contemporary moment and did not exist in the past.”

Installation piece by Dominique Watson

Framing- white- female- emerging artist- my eyes- camera- images- physical collage- print- in my mind- digital- photoshop- film strips- chance- abstract- representational- titles- When You Swipe Your ABSA Card- overlapping- labour- different people’s labours- my labour- making sense of my surroundings. Sarah-Jayde Hunkin locates herself within the city. Her processed-based work is centred around the transference of images and collaging experience. Frustrated with the lack of female representation in linocut printmaking, Sarah-Jayde is interested in the perception of ‘aggressive’ mark-making. Her print combines techniques of visualising negative space as well as delicate and fine marks.

Kira De Cavalho‘s MAPPING SPACES articulates locations topographically. The combination of paint and chalk is used to mark a fabric surface. The suspended map spans. “between my childhood homes (Mulbarton, Rosettenville and Kensington). The graphic threaded floor plans overlay the map and symbolise personal dynamics within my living spaces. These dynamics and associated traumas are expressed through different coloured cotton thread and linear layout.”

‘MAPPING SPACES’ by Kira De Cavalho

Nishay Phenkoo‘s Matrimonium study after The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even engages with its implicit Duchampian reference and the union of personified forms. “The deep enveloping gaze of the easels consumed within each other offers insight to the complexities of the marriage, its off-white veil of dust elegantly poised atop the head of its recipient awaiting a hopeful life of bliss and happiness.” Hymn Die Irae by Polish composer Zbigniew Preisner reverberates through the space while, “The recipients deeply intoxicated by the other lost in a subliminal bondage under the warm pink light imbued with parallelisms to the hand of god.”

This year’s winner, Kundai Moyo, explores issues of consent within the photographic practice. “I became curious about scale and the illusion of intimacy and that often lends itself to things that are small enough to fit in the palm of our hands, the psychological effects of this attachment and whether or not presenting something on such a small scale diminishes some of the problematic notions attached to it.” Her sculptural works entitled, Photo Albums: Vol. I & II are two tiny velvet-covered hand-bound books each containing a photographic series captured in Mozambique last year. Many of the images feature the human subject going about the doldrums of daily life. After producing the series, Kundai contemplated the moral dilemma of exploiting the image of strangers and the inequal power dynamic inherent in photography. She decided to, “construct a mechanism that would allow for viewers to peer into the lives of these strangers in a way that did not leave them exposed to the essentialist scrutiny that often comes with the unanimous viewing by a large audience.” Her photo albums attempt to create a tender moment of intimacy in the interactive piece.

The exhibition runs until the 7th of August.

‘Photo Albums: Vol. I & II’ by Kundai Moyo

Artwork by Oratile Konopi and Gyre

Artwork by Sarah-Jayde Hunkin

3 August 2018
Dancer and Choreographer Jeremy Nedd shapes multidisciplinary performative pieces

Choreographer and classically trained dancer Jeremy Nedd lives and practices in Brooklyn, NY. Studying dance from a very young age (8 years old), Jeremy gradually stepped into creating original choreographed pieces after many years of performing the choreography of others.

As a dancer he studied in New York and relied on his own intuition to train himself in choreography. “Choreography for me was always just a continuation or fulfilling of my ideas as a dancer, so I didn’t think to go to program.” In 2016 Jeremy left a position he kept in a theater and began a Masters in ‘Expanded Theater’ at the Hochschule der Künste Bern.

With ‘Expanded Theater’ Jeremy created a stage for himself to experiment. This experimentation is put into action by what Jeremy describes as composing images per-formatively through music, art and dramatic theatre techniques.

In discussion with the multi form artist he unpacks his work and approach to creating.

What is Communal Solo about and can you please unpack the title? How was this work approached and who are the people that are participating in this performance?

It was quite the journey to get it to the point that it is now, at least a years worth of work, if not more. In the very early stages of the work I was very caught up on the idea that theater was considered a communal experience. This ritual that we as a spectating pubic go and watch, while a someone performs.

I always wondered where in this constellation was the communal connection. Was it shared between the members of the public… or was it between the public and the performer(s)? Somehow I felt there was a disconnect, so I wanted to see if there was another way to achieve a sense of community in the theatre space.

After many attempts at creating, majority participatory based, communal acts in the theater, I found the most natural way for me to access a feeling of community was looking to how actual community is built around issues that deeply concern me. So in the end Communal Solo was inspired by experiences of mourning, celebration and protest, and how these collective experiences or communal gatherings correlate and coalesce in connection to a specific narrative – the recurrent violence in the form of Police brutality against the African-American community in the United States. This work made significant developments in this direction with Deborah Hollman.

‘An Homage’ photographed by Ayka Lux and Erwan Schmidt

Can you tell me more about your creative process?

I suppose this is where I could come back to the message in my work, Even though I come from a classical ballet education and history of performing contemporary ballets professionally my practice has had a focus on utilizing movement modes that are not based in codified dance techniques or not associated with the institution size theater idea of trained dance.

I find the constant themes that have informed my work revolve around; utilizing online resources, the process of dissection, demystification and re-contextualization and confronting definitions of validity and contemporaneity specifically in western spaces for art and theater. I am hoping to introduce new ideas of ‘virtuosity’ and where these perceptions land on ideas and narratives around race, gender and economic status (mine own as black male in particular). And in doing so attempting to inject validity into certain narratives and aesthetics.

‘An Homage’

What is the significance of space to your practice?

Space is integral, my girlfriend is an Architect. Through her I’ve really accessed a whole other understanding of the idea of “a body in space”. Especially considering how in a lot of contemporary practices the idea of space, be it physical or virtual is a very present topic.

How does the moving human form relate to space in your work?

As I mentioned before, now that I’m actively incorporating other disciplines in my practice, sculpture and installation for example, these operate very differently when presented in different contexts. Museum, Theater or Public Space/ Site Specific are all very different contexts and influence an audience reception to a work in different ways.

At present Jeremy is developing his next project exploring Sad Boy Rap. The project which is due to premiere at the end of this month is being created in collaboration with Maximilian Hanisch and Laurel Knüsel. The piece titled, ‘Sad Boy Culture’ will be premiering at the Festival Belluard Bollwerk International in Fribourg, Switzerland.

In August the performer will be in Johannesburg for a few months working on a new project with the Pantsula’s of Impilo Mapantsula.

‘An Homage’

‘re(mains)’

‘re(mains)’

6 June 2018
Artist and researcher Salome Asega on multivocality, dissensus and a speculative lens

As an artist and a researcher, Salome Asega‘s practice is a celebration of multivocality and dissensus. The relationship between her practice as an artist, and her roles as a researcher and teacher, is an interconnected one. Each of these aspects inform and filter into one another. Asega explains that this connection comes from their collective ability to offer useful methods for igniting questions and picking through ideas. I interviewed Asega to find out more about her work.

Could you please share more about your creative and academic background?

I spent a year after finishing my undergrad degree tinkering with hardware and making interactive visuals for my friends in performance and music. This eventually brought me to a community of artists who were also working with technology in exploratory ways. I did an MFA at Parsons at The New School in Design and Technology, where I’m now a faculty member.

I also come from a family of science and math people. When my family bought our first computer, my uncle, who was studying computer science at the time, used to mail me floppy discs of games he was working on. I don’t think I understood this as a creative technology practice at the time, but I like to thank him now for jump starting my infatuation with all things digital.

In your bio you describe your practice as one that “celebrates dissensus and multivocality”. Could you please unpack why this is the foundation of your practice, and how you filter this through in your textual and visual projects?

So many of my projects involve a collaborative or participatory process, which is grounded in conversations where we are making certain conceptual or design decisions. This very messy, messy process is sometimes rendered invisible when what’s in an exhibition is a final art object. When I say I celebrate multivocality or dissensus/consensus, I’m saying I value the process of working in community and I also acknowledge that it’s not easy.

Having looked through your ongoing project, POSSESSION and your recent participation in the group exhibition To Break The Ocean, it appears that water is of particular interest to you, specifically the historical and cultural significance of water and its connection to Blackness and the African Diaspora. Could you please share more about your interest in this, and how you unpack this in POSSESSION and To Break The Ocean?

I grew up in the desert, so I think the water is a natural draw for me. Beyond that, I’m curious about the ways the ocean and water show up in visual representations of time like how the ocean can represent the kalunga line in West African cosmologies. The ocean then becomes the split between cycles of past, present, and future, and also different dimensions– real world, spirit world. There is a speculative lens in much of my work and water presents itself as a material to do this thinking.

Your participation in the group exhibition To Break The Ocean is with Iyapo Repository. Could you please share more about the idea behind this resource library and how it has evolved since its inception?

Ayodamola Okunseinde and I started Iyapo Repository in 2016 during a residency with Eyebeam, an organization here in New York. The project has so many entry points for us. We were thinking a lot about the rising number of e-waste sites on the continent and the ways we’ve seen folks repurpose those materials to make something new and beautiful. We were also thinking about the places we show up in mainstream science fiction narratives, and black folks are primarily shown as extras if they’re even shown at all. We were also thinking about access and literacy to digital tools, and how we could leverage our access to certain institutional spaces to bring resources out. Somehow we combed all these questions and concerns together and developed a pop-up resource library and workshop series that asks participants to build future artifacts with us using hardware, virtual reality, and some digital fabrication techniques. It’s been extremely energizing to take up space in speculative futures with other black people.

Iyapo Repository focuses on physical and digital “artifacts”. Why was it important for you to include both kinds of artefacts? And how have you collated these to ensure their value and meaning to not get stripped away when placed in the context of a collection/archive?

Our inclusion to have both physical and digital artifacts in the repository was to ensure we were designing for multiple methods of engagement. We can dream up and create artifacts with our participants remotely, but also also in real life. The engagements, conversations, and creative exchanges are what ultimately make up this project. I’m interested in getting folks to speculate and design collectively.

When we show the artifacts in an exhibition, we include the original manuscript drawings and writing done in the workshop to provide contextual evidence for the final object. These documents are signed by our participants to make sure they are given credit as the archivist who “discovered” the artifact.

Could you please share more about the Iyapo Repository and how participants become archivists influenced by how they imagine the future? Who participates in these workshops?

We partner with museums, universities, festivals, community organizations, and after school programs to host us. I’m always thinking about how we can make unlikely partnerships to redistribute resources from one place to another. So if we’re working in a larger institution I want to make sure we’re also partnering with a community organization who can bring in their networks to participate in the project with us and take ownership of Iyapo Repository in that iteration.

The project Level Up: The Real Harlem Shake is also interesting in its use of video game language and interaction. Please share more about the choice to develop this as a video game? Is this a kind of commentary on cultural appropriation, digital cross-dressing or identity tourism?

In 2012, DJ Baur came out with a song called “Harlem Shake” that prompted people to make viral videos of them and a group of friends shaking wildly. Soon these videos took the top hit position over videos of the original Harlem Shake meaning you’d have to do some deep internet digging to find the original dance. I worked with curator Ali Rosa-Salas and dancer Chrybaby Cozie to develop a project that could counter this cultural erasure and assert the Harlem Shake as a dance form that is studied, learned, and passed off to others.

You are also the co-host of speculative talk show Hyperopia: 20/30 Vision. Please share more about the show and how it connects to the other work that you do?

Hyperopia: 20/30 Vision is a radio show Carl Chen (Lasik) and I (ConVex) started in 2015 at bel-air radio. Derek Schultz (DJ D) and Leila Tamari (LENZ) joined shortly after. The show originally was a way for us to ask experts to speculate the near future of their fields. Each episode, we want to imagine some essential element of a future — alternative economies, reproductive health, sustainable architecture, etc — and the ways technology creates opportunities or challenges towards the visioning. The format changed slightly for us to also have conversations as a team about our anxieties and optimisms around technological development presently. This show is another way think through ideas of futurity collectively.

What are you working on at the moment?

I’m currently a Technology Fellow at the Ford Foundation evaluating the arts and cultural strategies through technology lens. I’m spending the summer writing and reading in preparation for new projects this fall.

Is there anything you have lined up for this year that you would like to share with our readers?

I have a residency with Pioneer Works in Brooklyn lined up for this fall. I’m also working with Geng (PTP) to produce a performance for Abrons Art Center at St Augustine’s Church in November. We’re pulling a group of artists together to think through the architectural history of this Church that tells an early history of segregation in New York.

Photography by Naima Green

1 June 2018
‘Embroidery For A Long Song’ // merging the traditional and the modern in a neon-inspired meditation on female energy

‘I rise, I run. I even try dancing’ – these are the first words one hears after being greeted by the music from ‘Khaleeji’ (the ten piece band of folk singers) in the opening scene of ‘Embroidery For A Long Song‘. This short film is a neon-inspired meditation on female energy, and it creates a bridge between the modern and traditional by examining the histories of the Gulf region through music, fashion and poetry.

Filmmaker Amirah Tajdin has always been fascinated by the connection between fashion and film. With designer Faissal El-Malak‘s concept for ‘Embroidery For A Long Song’ she was finally able to explore this. A few months before Faissal asked Amirah to get on board with the film, she had created a fashion film for his Spring/Summer 18 collection. They had been friends for a while, but while working on the fashion film they discovered a new kind of creative synergy. When Faissal was approached by the W Hotels and Mixcloud team a few months later to curate the Dubai edition of their Future Rising event he automatically thought of making a second film with Amirah.

Faissal was given the broad brief to combine music with ideas about the future and a wonderland. These elements came together in his mind through nostalgic memories of the traditional music shows and concerts he used to watch on tv while growing up in the Gulf. “The sets of these shows were oddly futuristic; they created something very interesting visually where the tradition was respected and preserved within an ultra-modern context. It was sort of a wonderland where technology and an abundance of LED lights created a space to express one’s self fully. This was not a foreign concept to the way we live our daily life in a region that has seen exponential growth and has embraced very quickly modern and futuristic architecture as a norm, but that still hangs on very strongly to tradition, most notably in the way most people still wear traditional garments on a daily basis.”

With these memories and his desire to further his knowledge about women who play traditional music, Faissal began to ask around about this practice. He was also influenced by the words and pseudonyms used by millennials who revived the tradition of spoken word poetry through platforms such as Flickr and MySpace. These pseudonyms – ‘Eye of the Gazelle’, ‘Daughter of the falcon’ and ‘The one with the khol lined eyes’ – are interpreted visually through the animated illustrations that appear at particular moments in the film. “The expression of traditional music is in itself a collaboration between sung poems, the traditional garments, beats and dances coming together to create a feast for the senses,” Faissal explained. The connection between poetry, fashion and music is intimately displayed in how the film unfolds.

At the core of Faissal’s approach to fashion is his appreciation and celebration of Middle Eastern textiles and motifs, designing women’s ready-to-wear garments that offer combine the traditional and the modern. There is a parallel display of this in the film. A string of symbolic gestures echo this, such as the ironing and incensing of the main character’s hair and her dancing in the hall on her own. These traditional references are juxtaposed against the futuristic elements of the W Hotel hallways and neon lights. Trippy, distorted sonic encounters are merged with the instruments and chanting by Khaleeji. A poem is used as a device to narrate the film, inviting viewers into the mind of the main character.

This film is a loud celebration and a quiet reflection all at once. It offers itself as a compilation of memories presented in a way that excites sight and sound.

View the full film below.

11 May 2018
1.1 – create platforms over galleries

A few days ago American art critic and recent-Pulitzer Prize Winner Jerry Saltz published an article criticising the current art fair structure, the domination of mega-galleries, and highlighting the necessity for emerging, more “edgy” galleries. (So basically everything wrong with the art world). It’s good to know that these issues are being addressed on that level, but this isn’t a new critique. Having now introduced this debate, I’m not going to launch into a lengthy criticism ending with a passionate plea for change, but rather look at but one example of an arts platform doing things a little differently.

1.1 not only occupies a dynamic and category-evading space within the art world, but its inception was unconventional as well. Starting out of Deborah Joyce Holman’s studio, 1.1 began as an exhibition by Roberto Ronzani in October 2015. When asked about what inspired its conception, Deborah stated, “In the beginning, we were very interested in offering the space for very young artists, who in some way or another seemed to work with Social Media, or who we came across through Instagram, and who don’t necessarily situate themselves in the context of contemporary art, for example: a residency we did with Soto. Gang, a tattoo artist, or the Launch of three new Zines published by Popup Press. We always also put a strong emphasis on the space’s fluidity. It is important to define ourselves through the activities rather than formulating a very restrictive concept.”

‘Trust’ (2018) by Gala Vincensini, installation view. Photography by Gina Folly

1.1 is different from a typical gallery structure as all their funding comes through grants and public institutions. This flexibility according to Deborah is counted as one of the space’s strengths, “as with 1.1 not depending on the art market and funding through sales, we have more liberty in our choice of artists, and in the media we show.” The idea that 1.1 functions more as a platform helps “to distance ourselves from the idea that all our activities happen in the exhibition space in Basel. The exhibitions are one very present part of our output, but it is not the only one. We also engage in the field of music, and organise concerts and other events in collaboration with venues across Switzerland and a few throughout Europe.”

As a platform, 1.1 places an emphasis on engaging young people in the arts, making it accessible to a broad public who may not have much knowledge of the arts. Deborah claims, “This can be very challenging, as it forces us to really look at how and where we promote events, shows, and where we aim for visibility of the space as itself. We use Instagram very heavily, as a sort of alternative exhibition space. This means, prior to exhibitions, the artists are free to use them as a residency, and it obviously allows to reach a whole other audience than those that are based in Basel and surroundings.” Funding is always another challenge that requires year by year evaluation.

‘Baby Bar’ by Claire van Lubeek, installation view. Photography by James Bantone

As a platform with a passion for engaging new voices, Deborah and Tuula Rasmussen (who joined 1.1 recently) are always looking out for emerging artists with it being “a very intuitive process. It’s about keeping our eyes open, on Instagram and in more traditional ways, like through blogs, openings, our surroundings, etc. It has also happened a couple times that we were sent a portfolio or a recommendation and everything worked out to offer them a platform to show.”

It’s exciting that new art spaces are (seemingly) always opening up, but unfortunately it’s the case that while they begin as a challenge to existing institutions, inevitably they become institutions themselves. And so it was encouraging to hear from Deborah, as we ended off our email interview correspondence, that, “1.1 is in steady movement, and always changing, so we’re continuously re-evaluating everything and hoping to constantly adjust our values to the needs and demands of the artists, musicians and the public.”

‘Money Cyant Fool Them Again’ (2017) by Ashley Holmes, installation view. Photography by James Bantone

8 May 2018
The New Kids on the Block

The 21^st century self-portrait by SA young artists

It is more than likely they are on the My Friend Ned database, have been at every hip party thrown in Jeppestown in the past 6 months, have produced a zine, and embrace that Norm-core 90s kid aesthetic (even thought they were still in nappies when spiral chockers, and Fila platforms hit the scene).

What defines this new aesthetic? There seems to be a move towards mixed media artistry, and a return to the body as a site of art. I would argue that these artists are exploring the intersection between photography, film, fashion, the body, music, and the role of technology in their daily lives. This transition back to the body as site could potentially be because Gen Z (born between 1995 and 2012) feel alienated by the elitist gallery spaces – the white cube perhaps cannot contain the lived reality of the tech-savvy teen and young adult.

These young artists are beginning to dismantle the ‘inaccessibility’ of art – taking it to the streets, to the ‘gram, and to your local watering hole.

Psychedelic filters, hip kicks, ironic selfies, no capital letters and techy-glitch collages. If you’ve stalked/follow these cooler than school young artists on Instagram this is an aesthetic you probably recognise. So, then you may ask, “what makes them artists?” and not just teens on Instagram, sharing their life.

It is the curated lifestyle, the carefully considered profile, the meticulous representation of self – that in many ways is the 21^st century self-portrait. The three-square format of Instagram begins to become a canvas, a space to develop a narrative of aesthetic. The ‘story’ feature becomes a space where young artists delve into video art and perform their profile.

There is a possibility many of these artists would read this and think, “No, Rosa you don’t get it at all.” And maybe I don’t, since I just missed the cusp – born in 1994.

But what’s not to love about young people taking over the streets, redefining art, and using the platform of Instagram to express themselves and to subtly invoke the importance of the queer.femme.intersectional youth of tomorrow.

Who to follow RN:

Shanti Cullis @nyaope

Francesco Mbele @franadilla

Kayla Armstrong @kaylas_arm

Zem @mezvn

Mangaliso Ngcobo @blueshorts_

Jemma Rose @jemtherose

Anne-Marie Kalumbu @theotherisyou

Tali Lehr Sachs @talo.walo

@caleb.nkosi

@crunchysweater

Grace Winkler @grace.spinach

Milla Eloise @sexteenmagazine

Dune Tilley @dunetilley

Riley Grant @rilet.pg

Luca Williams @lucaxwilliams

Didi @temporarynewname

Lunga @lunga_ntila

Natalie Paneng @nataliepaneng_

30 April 2018
Transdisciplinary conversations on the realities of urbanness // Dr Njoki Ngumi to take part in the African Mobilities’ Johannesburg Exchange

Dr Njoki Ngumi wears many hats in roles that stretch across various fields. As a result the word she uses to describe herself is “maker”, emphasising that her work transcends genre and medium. Her background in healthcare has helped her to cultivate her curiosity and care for small details, and this has continued to be useful to her in the arts space.

As a storyteller, she is currently obsessed with what can be obtained through collaboration and collective effort. “It’s been played to its tired cliché end on SO many mediocre TV programs, but truly? Groups of unlikely people achieving unlikely things is the whole entire wave. Nothing gimmicky – just mapping how people build bridges to each other and love and fight and love again, as they set large fires and take many names. I did an odd little thread once on Twitter that was about an elite cadre of femme/fem assassins, and a surprising number of people really loved it, and it was about just that – odd, fierce, unexpected togethernesses.”

Her storytelling style is in constant evolution. She loves drama, distance and spectacle, but is also wary of how this can sometimes privilege the story over allowing audiences to engage. On the other hand, she also enjoys more intimate weavings that require the audience’s participation in some way, resulting in a new energy or story at the end. Through this reflection, Njoki tries to find the balance in her storytelling to invite audiences into the worlds she creates or mirrors.

Another one of Njoki ‘s endeavors is her position as Head of Learning and Development at HEVA, an East African fund that invests in the transformative social and economic potential of the creative economy within the region. The development of HEVA Capital and HEVA Forum address the questions of how creative enterprises can get access to credit and how an enabling, progressive environment can be created for these businesses to grow. Within these two spaces, Njoki identifies knowledge gaps and interesting possibilities, and figures out ways in which creative enterprises can access them.

Working across disciplines is an important part of how Njoki frames her practice. Therefore, co-founding the Nest Collective was a no-brainer. She did this in collaboration with 11 other members, namely Olivia Ambani, Hope Bii, Jim Chuchu, Sunny Dolat, George Gachara, Njeri Gitungo, Kendi Kamwambia, Noel Kasyoka, Akati Khasiani, Mars and Wakiuru Njuguna. As a collective they are “a making, building multidisciplinary arts squad based in Nairobi that drops cultural bombs and then wears overalls to sort through the debris.” The collective was formed in reaction to the fact that mainstream spaces did not have room for audiences who were craving an engagement with work that is risky, quirky and odd. Since its inception in 2012 the collective has made films, visual art, music, work in fashion and write books. Each member of the collective has their area of expertise, but together they have built a think tank and creative melting pot for themselves. Through their collective they explore modern identities, re-imagine their pasts and remix their futures. Connected to this is how they unpack what it means to be young, contemporary and urban, as well as the possibilities of casting away existing scripts and design new outcomes.

Njoki has been invited to be one of the hosts for the Johannesburg Exchange under African Mobilities. This has an organic connection to the other projects and roles that she takes on. “AM [African Mobilities] is about transdisciplinary conversations, negotiating the vagaries and glories of urbanness and challenging realities with communities and collaboration, and this is already a huge part of the Nest’s – and my own – practice.” Her work fits so seamlessly into the agenda for the Johannesburg Exchange, and African Mobilities as a whole, that Njoki will be doing a public performance reading at the Exchange.

Reflecting on the importance of African Mobilities and the Exchanges they have hosted in multiple cities, Njoki stated that, “One of the most magic things about it is its determination to break knowledge and data out of ivory towers and bring it out directly to the people. We’re at a time now when knowledge sharing is possible in new and unprecedented ways because of the internet, but in many ways guides and people to open out and explore and explain new things in new ways are still so essential. That’s what AM is building, together with prioritizing multiple African perspectives.”

The Johannesburg Exchange is taking place from 22-24 February at Wits University and African Flavour Books in Braamfontein.

22 February 2018
Nkhensani Mkhari creates dreamy photographic masterpieces on film

“A visual dissertation, a meditation on time, place, memory and personal history; amalgamating the passage through life and dreams, bridging philosophy, politics and prose. A reflection of my being in abstract form.” – Nkhensani Mkhari on his work.

A dreamy reality caked with attention-halting architectural shots, documentary images and glamorous fashion depictions come together to create the visual language of a budding artist. Nkhensani Mkhari is a young multi-disciplinary practitioner who grew up in Mabopane, township in the North of Pretoria. “I consider myself a hybrid artist,” he tells me. Completing his studies in Film and Television production at the Open Window Institute in 2016, he traverses between directing films, script writing, photography, art direction and music.

Editorial with Ilaphulam for Inga Madibyi (2018)

His childhood was spent around a hum of creativity with his father practicing as a landscape artist and his mother as a Setswana teacher. Nkhensani shares with me that his mother’s vocation acted as an introduction to language and narrative. “I’ve had an affinity for storytelling and aesthetic for as long as I can remember. Cognizance of how concepts and ideas can affect society drove me towards wanting to participate in the creative field.”

‘Portraits for consolation’ (4) with Buyani Duma

Non-linear, acoustic, literary and artistic attentiveness attracted him to his chosen mediums of expression. “Growing up in the internet age assisted in idealizing and realizing my artistic vision. I always felt like we live in a multidimensional universe, which is also part of a multidimensional infinite consciousness we call God or the universe or nkulu nkulu or creation. We are multidimensional actualities. Therefore, I feel like my work should be multidimensional if it is to have a remarkable influence on human freedom. I make art in the hope that it will call me and the audience to a deeper awareness of living itself.” An interest in Afro Futurism was explored with his final film during his studies. The premise of the motion picture was that of software that alters human beings’ consciousness and is used by the government to indoctrinate citizens. Since graduation, he has been occupying himself with the writing of an African feature-length film. To add to his merits, the passionate creative self-published a photobook ‘grain’ Volume 1 and a conceptual EP, ‘23′ that he describes to me as a personal interpretation of science fiction soundscapes – released under the pseudonym, Ndzilo Xiluva.

Project Mayhem (1) in collaboration with Bambatha Jones (2017)

“I’ve also been busy shooting an array of photo series, portraits, editorials and experimental films themed on a range of subjects from mythology to Artificial Intelligence, I’m fascinated by the prospect of these ideas and how they influence society especially African communities.” The photographic side of Nkhensani can only be described as one of calculated risk. Utilizing manual, vintage Japanese film cameras and countless rolls of film as his visual narrative tools. “I come up with titles and captions from conversations, reading books or watching movies, certain words and phrases stand out. These titles usually form the centrifuge for my conceptual photographs like fashion editorials and commercial work, I’ll research the etymology of the word or the origin of the phrase or word and create a mood board from that. With my fine art photography, it’s a more organic cathartic process based on intuition, the work is unscripted.”

His widespread influences include Pantsula culture, African Neo-expressionism, conceptual fashion, Jean Michel Basquiat, Zanele Muholi, FAKA, Frank Ocean and Claude Monet, to name a few. Delving deeper Nkhensani shares with me the concept of his ongoing personal portrait series, ‘Portraits for Consolation’. It is focused on the idea of the “Gaze” and it confronts commonly held notions of beauty.

Essence editorial (4); (2017)

A preference for analogue photography is explained in his statement, “I like how skin tones, light and tone are rendered on emulsions. I like the simplicity of the technology, the mechanics, chemistry and the historical aspect. I like seeing photographs develop in a seemingly magical way in the darkroom, it’s an enthralling process I feel like films limitations have been advantageous in developing my eye.” From my own experience, I tend to agree with Nkhensani; nothing develops your eye, technical skill and understanding of lighting combinations quite like the unknown world of an image caught on film, only to be reviewed after development.

Nkhensani, like many young content creators, chooses not to box himself into a specific field of photographic study. “I don’t think photography is fissiparous. I shoot from an artistic eye whether it’s fashion, documentary or fine arts.”

‘Portraits for consolation’ (7)

Nkhensani’s sound technical understanding of his gear, his unique focus on titles, the etymology of words as well as an uncanny ability to traverse a multitude of photographic disciplines shows not only skill but talent. The artist has another ability, that which is perhaps the most difficult to cultivate – Nkhensani is a psychologist. To be a photographer means to have an innate understanding of the human psyche. The intimacy recorded in his technically excellent images is a clear signifier of his ability to relate to the models in his unforgettable images. His experience orientated work is hoped to take on a more holistic nature in the coming year. Keep an eye out for him, he’s taken my cognitive consciousness by a storm. On another note, I want a print of one of his images on a t-shirt.

‘Portraits of consolation’ (5)

‘Untitled Theory’ (1); (2017)

‘Between distance and time’ (2017)

16 February 2018